He tip-toed away down the passage, and would soon have been out of hearing had Steve remained silent. But that was the last thing he wished to do. He desired to attract the attention of the man, and promptly gave a groan as if he were in agony. "Did I hear correctly? Was it monsieur who groaned?" The guard stopped abruptly, and brought the stock of his ponderous musket with a clatter to the ground, the jar being instantly followed by a second groan. "Surely, it must be monsieur. What ails you, if you please, Monsieur Steve?" he asked, coming back to the room. "You are ill and in pain. What is the matter?" Steve was not the one to sham as a rule, but he knew that he could not very well remain in the courtyard that night unless he had some plausible reason. He was not ill. In fact, he had never felt better or more energetic in his life. But he was 'cute, as Hunting Jim had already observed, and he was determined to manufacture some complaint. "It is nothing," he answered, letting another feeble groan escape him. "I do not feel very comfortable. I have pain here. Perhaps monsieur would speak to my servant and ask him to bring me something warm to drink." Steve placed his hand over his stomach and rolled on to his face again, for he was fearful that his healthy colour would betray him. The guard trailed his musket promptly, and went off at a run, bellowing for the soldier who had been detailed to wait on the prisoner. "Quick," he cried, accosting the servant in the courtyard, "Monsieur is ill. I discovered him lying on his couch, groaning horribly. He desires something warm to drink. Run to the kitchen and see if you can obtain some milk." A little later Steve was sitting up and sipping the warm milk, while his servant looked on sympathetically. "Pardon, monsieur," he said, "but the pain will be better shortly. Monsieur looks well, and I am sure that this is only a little matter; for think, monsieur was in the courtyard two hours ago and I heard him whistling as if he had not a care in all the world, and as if he were with his own friends again." Steve winced at the words, knowing that they were only too true. But a man who wishes to escape must act the part he has selected to the utmost of his ability, and he did so promptly. "You are right, Jean," he said. "It is only a little thing. Some food has upset me. In a little while I shall be better. You are a good fellow to come so quickly. Now leave me, for I think I can sleep, and perhaps later the sentries will allow me to have some exercise." "Truly, monsieur. They are asking kindly after you already, for monsieur is a favourite. I will go to them, and you will walk when you feel inclined." He went out of the room, closed the door, and slipped silently down the passage.